


Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

by My_Alter_Ego



Series: White Collar Discussions [7]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Deceptions, Disobedience, Foreshadowing of a Future Romantic Relationship, Gen, Lies, Peter’s List of Rules, Thefts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 15:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: Not long ago, Peter had taken the plunge and assumed the responsibility for a paroled felon. It was a risk, but Peter thought he was up to the task of keeping Neal Caffrey under his thumb. And we all know how that turned out. This fiction is told from Peter’s point of view and takes place at the beginning of the series.





	Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

Sometimes Peter Burke felt overwhelmed by the new responsibility he had taken on. But Neal Caffrey, the handsome criminal con artist, was like a challenging addiction. Weeks before the decision had been made, Peter’s inner self had warned him that this quixotic venture would be treacherous—a slippery slope that, eventually, could possibly have him wiping out as he briefly rode the perfect wave before crashing into the ocean. However, Peter refused to listen to the logical part of his brain because he was a driven man. He had a purpose, well, maybe two reasons to surge full steam ahead into the chaos. Caffrey was brilliant and could be a boost to Peter’s career. The second objective was more altruistic; Peter wanted the gratification of reforming the young and foolish felon so that he would tread the straight and narrow path of righteousness.

Peter had never been a parent. The only other living thing he had ever been responsible for overseeing and disciplining was a small Yellow Lab puppy that grew into an obedient and loyal companion. But perhaps that was like comparing apples to oranges. It would be much harder to make Caffrey come to heel. Peter gave the scenario a great deal of thought and came to the logical conclusion that rules were the way to go. Maybe when Neal Caffrey was growing up, he had been a wild child without any restraint from parental figures. With that in mind, perhaps having a clear set of unbreakable caveats with consequences should be the starting point in their relationship.

So, with a yellow legal pad in hand, Peter began scribbling down dictates, one after the other. Rules were good. They spelled everything out and delineated how one should conduct themselves. Right off the bat, Peter had a very serious conversation with his new responsibility, carefully going over each and every stipulation after fetching Caffrey from outside the prison gates. The paroled felon had listened attentively and even offered a little smile. Poor, disenchanted Peter! Little did he know that, in Neal’s mind, rules were merely a suggestion and, ultimately, they were meant to be broken.

~~~~~~~~~~

_Rule Number One_ had come from the Federal Marshals, and it should have been cut and dried. Neal had a tracking device on his ankle that was set to an urban two-mile radius within Manhattan. In just a couple of days, that rule had been trampled into the dust. Neal, all shiny and bright-eyed, had showed up on the Burke’s doorstep and made himself comfortable on Peter’s couch. Down the road, after numerous alerting phone calls from the monitoring service, Peter had thrown in the towel and had his house exempted.

Of course, that was just the beginning of the pattern of Neal never staying where Peter put him. At the onset, he was supposed to begin his tenure by residing in a dreary downtown flophouse because that was all that his meager stipend from the government would afford him. In just twenty-four hours, Neal had finagled his way into the lap of luxury. To be precise, he really hadn’t broken a rule, but rather bent it a bit. He was still within his proscribed radius, just not where Peter had left him. In fairness, Peter had challenged him to better his circumstances, if he was able. So, that ended in a draw for the two players in this little drama.

_Rule Number Two_ was clear and succinct—no hobnobbing with other convicted felons. Within a few weeks, Neal was getting cozy with a suspicious little bald guy who set Peter’s nerves on edge. It was true that a frustrated handler couldn’t pin down an identity for this nonentity, but, nonetheless, Peter’s Spidey senses were on high alert. Something was definitely off with the guy, and a wary Federal Agent suspected that this gnome’s moral compass had veered far from true north. Using facial recognition software, Peter tried to draw a bead on the irritating little twerp, who was obviously using an alias. That was a bust, and without any actual proof that Neal’s old friend had a criminal record, _Rule Number Two_ didn’t seem to apply.

Peter had agonized over the next few rules in his hierarchy of commandments. He thought about dictating a curfew, but hesitated because he wasn’t quite sure what he could do if Neal broke it. The guy was young, but he wasn’t a wayward teenager. Other bans on drinking, smoking, or illicit drugs didn’t seem appropriate for someone like Neal. He was of legal age and Peter knew that he never smoked or took drugs, and his drinking was limited to some discriminating wine vintages. So, Peter let _Rule Number Three_ be an umbrella warning for Neal to always conduct himself with decorum. While in the workplace, he was supposed to quietly stick by Peter’s side so that he could watch and learn. However, nothing that related to Neal Caffrey was even close to quiet and understated. He looked flamboyant in his vintage clothes and hat, and it didn’t take long before he had everyone in the White Collar Office entranced. Eventually, he managed to win over every agent, even hardnosed Diana Berrigan. Reese Hughes was the lone holdout. Outwardly, the crusty old man seemed immune to Neal’s charms.

But Neal did learn, and he sometimes utilized his new knowledge in less than acceptable ways. Apparently, he had read Peter’s large volume of warrant law to hit upon that pesky little thing called “exigent circumstances.” Thankfully, it had all turned out okay, and the unlikely duo had taken down the Dutchman right in his lair.

_Rule Number Four_ was self-explanatory with no wiggle room_—"Thou Shalt Not Lie to Thine Handler.”_ Peter suspected that perhaps Neal had never told him a bald-faced falsehood, but he was wily enough to create deflections and distractions that skirted the actual truth. Peter could never pin him down and inflict any punishment, and, as time went on, Neal’s keeper feared he was losing the focused intensity to catch his slick felon in matters of deception.

_Rule Number Five, “Thou Shalt Not Steal,”_ would always remain a grey area from the first moment of their newly-minted partnership. That was Peter’s cross to bear. He suspected that Neal still had sticky fingers, and, during the time that they were joined at the hip, he had probably purloined many objects while under his handler’s intense scrutiny. Proving it, Peter realized, was an exercise in futility. But Peter did know one fact for sure. Ultimately, Neal had audaciously stolen something quite close to home. Like a cunning thief in the night, he had furtively grabbed an emotional part of his handler’s heart, and, unfathomably, the stalwart agent had no desire to recover what had been taken. Peter knew the FBI handbook backwards and forwards. The Bureau had hard and fast rules in place regarding handlers becoming involved with their CIs. Maybe rules were meant to be broken.


End file.
